Dark Corners
by Dannyblue
Summary: Series of stand-alone stories. There are dark corners in every relationship. (C/A)
1. Default Chapter

**TITLE: Dark Corners  
****AUTHOR: Dannyblue  
****E-MAIL: dannyblue2@yahoo.com  
****SUMMARY: In this fic, Angel and Cordy are already a couple.   
****SPOILERS: General series stuff up to "Rain of Fire". Probably nothing specific. This story takes place in some nebulous future. I have no idea where Connor is, so don't ask.  
****RATING: PG.  
****PAIRING: Angel/Cordelia.  
****FEEDBACK: Yes, please.  
****DISTRIBUTION: Ask and you shall receive.  
****DISCLAIMER: I do not own _Angel_…darnit! That honor belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc.  
  
  
  
  
Grocery shopping at 7 p.m. just didn't compare to a day spent at Neman Marcus.  
  
Cordelia Chase pushed her cart down the aisle. She tried to look on the bright side of things. She had Angel's credit card, and could pretty much spend as much as she wanted. But splurging on the most expensive brand of corn flakes, even though the cheap kind were almost as good, just didn't get the old adrenaline pumping. Not like spending a ridiculous amount of money on a pair of shoes that would be out of style in a month.   
  
"Shoulda brought Fred," Cordy sighed. Fred in a gigantic room filled with food equaled a party. And a lot of fun, as Cordy had learned to her great surprise. Fred made a sale on a jar of taco sauce seem like a cause for celebration.  
  
  
But she was riding solo tonight. And unless she wanted to make a meal out of a jar of grape jelly, three slices of stale bread, frozen peas and leftover spaghetti noodles, she'd better get to shopping.  
  
Cordy made a stop at the cookie aisle, because cookies were, like, essential. And, from the prices, more precious than gold.   
  
As she tried to decide between Oreos and Chips Ahoy, Cordy grinned. Angel in a grocery store could be fun too. He'd shift and shuffle, as if being in such a "normal" place was just too much for him. And some of the prices made him even more pale than usual.  
  
Last time, there was a group of girls in the store, loading up on junk for a slumber party, no doubt. They caught one glimpse of Angel, all tall and dark and gorgeous, decked out in a his leather coat, and almost swooned. From that moment on, they followed Angel and Cordy around the store, trying and failing to be discreet. Whispering and peaking around corners.   
  
Poor Angel spent that shopping trip looking for some dark, shadowy corner to hide in. Of course the grocery store, so brightly lit it was almost fluorescent, didn't _have_ any shadows.  
  
Watching him squirm as the teens gazed at him adoringly was a hoot and a half. And cute as hell.  
  
With a wicked snicker, Cordy dropped the Chips Ahoy in her cart. She liked to think of it as pay-back, for when Angel barely noticed the adoring gazes of one fifteen year-old in particular.  
  
Next stop, salad dressings. Cordy stared longingly at the garlic ranch. From what she could tell, most of the tales about vampires and garlic were myths. Tossing garlic powder in a vampire's face wouldn't make their skin smoke and boil. They'd just get annoyed.  
  
Who wouldn't?  
  
Still, vamps didn't seem to be fond of the herb. Whenever she got too garlic-happy, Angel wasn't as likely to indulge in those long, lingering kisses they both liked so much. So, no garlic ranch.  
  
Sighing, Cordy reached for the blue cheese dressing instead.  
  
"Cordelia? Cordelia Chase?"  
  
Startled, Cordy spun around. Behind her stood a tall, well-built man with rust-red hair. There was a wide, excited grin on his handsome face, recognition in his gray-green eyes.   
  
"Matt?" Cordy smiled at the sight of a familiar face. "Matt Potter?"  
  
"It's Matt Forrester now," he said. "My agent decided it flows better." Coming forward, he embraced her in a sudden hug. "Wow, I can't believe how long it's been!"  
  
Normally, an acquaintance she'd barely known and hadn't seen for ages walking up to her and giving her a hug would have brought Queen C out in 2 seconds flat. With a few choice words, she would have left them quivering in the center of the grocery store.  
  
But she remembered Matt had always been touchy-feely. He'd hugged everyone in their acting class at least once. So she accepted the friendly gesture for what it was, and hugged him back.  
  
"It's good to see you, Matt," she said, and meant it. He'd been the only one in class who didn't act jealous or competitive, didn't look down on her for her lack of acting experience. He was the only guy who asked her out but didn't hold a grudge when she turned him down. "How have you been?"  
  
"Pretty good." Releasing her, Matt took a step back. "And you?"  
  
"Never better," Cordy grinned.  
  
They chatted for quite a while, standing there in front of the croutons and Bacon Bits. Matt told her about his acting career, which was starting to take off; he'd had some pretty decent parts on two major television series. And Cordy explained why she'd given up the acting thing…leaving out the part about visions and her vampire boyfriend.   
  
As they talked, Cordy realized how long it had been since she'd seen anyone from her "old life". On impulse, she made a date to have coffee with Matt next week.  
  
____________________  
  
There were times when he liked to watch her like this. Hidden in some dark corner, so she didn't know he was there.  
  
She sat at her desk, the newspaper spread out in front of her, a bottle of nail polish open at her elbow. He didn't know how, be she was reading the news and painting her nails at the same time.  
  
With a wistful smile, Angel watched Cordelia turn the page. Fingers spread, and out of harm's way, she grabbed the edges of the page between her flattened palms, then lifted and flipped in one smooth move. When she managed to do it without damaging her manicure, she smiled in satisfaction.   
  
Hands in his pockets, Angel settled deeper into the shadows. How was it possible? How did she get more beautiful every day? How did her eyes get brighter, her smile more electric?  
  
What had he done to deserve her?  
  
The question reverberated through his mind, like an echo bouncing off the walks of a bottomless pit.. Slowly, his wistful smile melted away.   
  
"Nothing," he whispered. He hadn't done anything to deserve her. Hadn't done a single thing worthy of the gift he'd been given.  
  
But she was his.  
  
Suddenly, Cordy yawned. Hands raised over her head, she stretched, breasts straining against the fabric of her shirt. Head thrown back to reveal the long, smooth curve of her neck.  
  
And his eyes became possessive as they roamed over her body. Over the skin he'd explored, touched and tasted, inch by delicious inch. Over the hands that could set his body aflame.  
  
His stomach clenched as a familiar heat coiled low in his abdomen.   
  
She was his. The woman who loved him as much as he loved her.  
  
_Almost._  
  
And, together, they were building a life beyond anything he could ever have imagined. A life that almost seemed too good to be true.  
  
He was afraid to pinch himself. If he did, he might wake up. Cordy would realize all the things she'd given up to be with him. And the dream that was too good to be true wouldn't be true anymore.  
  
A sudden gasp drew him out of his reverie.  
  
"Oh, my God," Cordy whispered. She stared down at the newspaper, a look of horror on her beautiful face.   
  
Alarmed by her distress, Angel stepped out of the shadows. "Cordy?"  
  
"Oh, my God." One hand pressed to her mouth, she stood. Her eyes still glued to the paper—like it was a living thing that might come to life and lunge at her throat—she backed away from the desk. Stumbled and almost tripped over the chair.  
  
"Cordy!" Rounding the counter, Angel grabbed her shoulders, turned her body towards his. "What is it?"  
  
"Matt," she gasped, eyes still on the paper. "I just saw him the other day." She turned to look at Angel, eyes glazed and sparkling with tears. "He's dead. There's was an accident. They think he fell and hit his head on a coffee table or something. And they just found him…" A sob choked the words off in her throat.  
  
An invisible fist clenched in Angel's chest. It was like that now. Her pain became his. Her heartache made his own heart shatter.  
  
"I mean, it wasn't like we were close," Cordy said, voice thick with unshed tears. "I barely knew him. But he was nice. And I just _saw_ him, Angel." And her face crumpled.  
  
"It's okay," Angel soothed as he pulled her into him. "Shhhh. It'll be okay." As he rubbed his hands against her back, Cordy's arms circled his waist, and she rested her head on his chest.  
  
Cordy didn't outright cry. Tears were hard for her. Instead, she took one deep, shuddering breath after another. Made whimpering sound when she had to struggle to keep a sob from escaping.   
  
In some ways, listening to her try to be strong was harder than if she'd just let herself cry.  
  
"It's not fair," she said, words muffled because her lips were pressed against his shirt. "Not fair."  
  
"No," Angel agreed. "It's not."  
  
His hold tightening, Angel rested his chin against the top of her head. Breathed deep and let her scent spread through his body. As his eyes drifted shut, the faintest of smiles shadowed his lips. Maybe now, he could let go of the image that had burned itself into his memory.  
  
The image of Cordelia, wrapped in the arms of a handsome man with rust-red hair.  
  
  
  
****THE END **


	2. Story 2: Whispers

**TITLE: Dark Corners 2: Whispers  
****AUTHOR: Dannyblue  
****E-MAIL: dannyblue2@yahoo.com  
****SUMMARY: The sequel to "Dark Corners." In this fic, Angel and Cordy are already a couple.   
****SPOILERS: General series stuff up to "Rain of Fire". Probably nothing specific. This story takes place in some nebulous future. I have no idea where Connor is, so don't ask.  
****RATING: PG.  
****PAIRING: Angel/Cordelia.  
****FEEDBACK: Yes, please.  
****DISTRIBUTION: Ask and you shall receive.  
****DISCLAIMER: I do not own Angel…darnit! That honor belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc.  
  
  
  
  
Angel felt it every time she walked out the door.  
  
Panic.  
  
A chill raced through his already cold body. In that moment, he was consumed by the ugly certainty that Cordelia wasn't coming back. That she'd step out into the sun, feel its warmth on her face, and decide she was tired of living in the dark.  
  
And it was like something digging inside him, claws slashing at his heart.   
  
But the panic didn't last long. Just a fraction of an instant. By the time the door shut behind her with a soft 'click', logic had reasserted itself. Of course she was coming back. This was her home.  
  
He was her home.  
  
"It's so sad," Fred was saying. She placed a stack of files on the counter. "Cordy meets an old friend she hasn't seen in ages. And then…"  
  
"They weren't friends, Fred," Angel interrupted, eyes still on the door. "She barely knew him."  
  
"But she said she really liked him. He was one of the few friends she made in that acting class. And they were gonna meet for coffee today." Fred shook her head, a forlorn droop to her mouth. "Instead, she's going to his funeral. It's just so sad."  
  
"Yeah," Angel half-heartedly agreed. Arms folded, he waited another second for Cordy to come running back inside. To get her purse. Her keys. Money. Or maybe to kiss him once more before really, really leaving.  
  
But the seconds ticked by, and the door didn't open. So, he reluctantly pulled his gaze away and drifted towards the counter.  
  
"We have a new case." Fred handed him a folder. "This woman thinks her house is being haunted by her uncle. He owned a bakery. Anyway, she doesn't think he's dangerous. But the smell of fresh pastries has been making her so hungry, she's already gained 10 pounds."  
  
Angel smiled as he opened the file. He'd have to tell Cordy about this one as soon as she got home.   
  
The promise of her boisterous laughter echoed through his memory.  
____________________  
  
Cordelia dragged herself towards the door of the Hyperion. The last few hours had left her exhausted, her heart heavy in her chest.   
  
"I didn't really know him that well," she'd found herself saying over and over again. Until that day at the grocery store, she'd all but forgotten he existed. Surrounded by Matt's friends and family at the funeral, then at his childhood home, she'd felt like a fraud. Like she didn't have the right to be there.   
  
But she'd had to go. She felt like she'd lost something, too. Not a loved one, but a possible friend. Someone she could've really liked, but would never get the chance to know.  
  
Cordy pressed her fingers against her temple. How long it would take to get Diane Potter's tear-stained face out of her mind? She'd been so desperate to talk to someone about her son. So, Cordy sat with the woman she'd just met, and listened for hours as Diane bragged about Matt.  
  
Sighing, Cordy opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit lobby. A quick look around told her there was no-one there. They were all probably out on a case.  
  
Cordelia stepped out of her shoes, which had been pinching her fee all day. Leaving them in a heap by the door, she started across the room.  
  
"You're late."  
  
With a startled gasp, Cordy spun around. "Angel," she breathed, one hand pressed over her heart.   
  
He sat in a reading chair in the darkest corners of the lobby. Sitting there, he seemed to meld into the shadows.  
  
No wonder she hadn't seen him.  
  
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "You scared me."  
  
"Sorry." He stood and stepped into the light. "You said you'd be home hours ago. I was starting to worry."  
  
Cordy studied him. There were lines of tension in his face. The hint of anger in his deep, sable-brown eyes.   
  
Knowing how she felt when he was late, when she had no idea where he was or what might have happened to him, she started to feel guilty.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Angel," she said. Walking towards him, she rested her hands on his chest. "I know I should've called. But I guess that, with everything going on…"  
  
"I understand," he interrupted as his hands spanned her waist. "It's okay." From somewhere, he dredged up a strained smile. That beautiful smile that made her heart melt, and made things seem not quite as bad as they had been just minutes before.   
  
Feeling the sudden need to be closer to him, Cordelia stepped forward and rested her head on his chest. Immediately, Angel's powerful arms wrapped around her.  
  
"How was it?" he asked.  
  
Cordy shook her head. She could try to explain that it had been much harder than she'd thought it would be, but she didn't have the energy.  
  
Angel seemed to get that she didn't want to talk. So they just stood in the center of the lobby, wrapped in each other's arms.  
____________________  
  
For a moment, Cordy didn't know what had woken her up. She lay in the dark, completely still, taking comfort in the cool body that lay next to her.  
  
Then, she heard a moan.  
  
Frowning, Cordy turned towards Angel. In the dim moonlight, she could see his head thrashing against the pillow. And the moans grew louder. More desperate.  
  
He was having a nightmare.  
  
"Angel!" Cordy placed her hands on his broad shoulders, and shook him as hard as she could. "Wake up, Angel!"  
  
And he did, so fast it shocked her a little. With little warning, he sprang into a sitting position. Cordy reared back to avoid getting hit by his powerful body.  
  
For several moments, there was nothing but the sound of his harsh, labored breathing. Vampires didn't _need_ to breathe. But Angel sometimes did. When he'd been fighting. When he was angry.  
  
When he was scared.  
  
"Angel," she whispered, reaching out to touch his arm.  
  
"Cordy?" he said, sounding disoriented. Then, suddenly, he was holding her.  
  
Cordy couldn't hold back a startled cry. His grip was crushing, almost painful. And, as he pressed his lips against the crook of her neck, he squeezed even tighter, body hard and humming with tension.  
  
"Angel," she panted. She pushed against his chest, hoping that would get him to ease up a little. It was getting hard to breathe.  
  
"You left me," he whispered against the skin of her throat. "You left me."  
  
Cordy gasped, heart sinking as she realized what his nightmare had been about. And she knew how scary they could be. Early on in their relationship, she'd had a few herself. She'd woken up in cold sweats and tears more than once.  
  
"It was a dream, Angel," she said. Somehow managing to get an arm free, she patted his back comfortingly. "Just a bad dream. I'm right here. And I'm not going anywhere. I love you, and I'm right here."  
  
For a second, she didn't think he heard her. Then, his grip eased. Some of the tension drained out of his body.  
  
"Let's go back to sleep. Okay?"  
  
As they lay back down, Angel wrapped himself around her. Head resting on her shoulder, one arm thrown across her waist.  
  
Cordy wrapped her arm around his and closed her eyes. As she felt his body relax, her body relaxed too.   
  
She'd almost drifted back to sleep when she heard Angel whisper, "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."  
  
Sighing, Cordy opened her mouth to explain, to tell him she loved him too much for leaving to even be an option. But he continued.  
  
"It scares me sometimes when I think about it," he said, voice tired. Exhausted. "When I think about what I might do."   
  
Cordelia stilled, drowsiness melting away as she listened to him whisper.  
  
"I don't think I could live with that kind of pain," he continued. "Not when I know how to make it go away."   
  
And Cordy's heart began to beat a little faster. She held her breath, and waited for the next whisper. Waited for him to explain what he meant—what the _hell_ he meant—by that.  
  
But he never did. Instead, the head on her shoulder grew heavy. The body lying against hers relaxed into the mattress.   
  
He was asleep.  
  
As Cordy stared up at the ceiling, she told herself what Angel said didn't mean anything. They were the incoherent mumblings of a man who'd just woken from a nightmare and was still half asleep.  
  
But she couldn't stop thinking of those words…  
  
_Not when I know how to make it go away._  
  
…And all that they might mean.  
  
  
  
****THE END **


	3. Story 3: Secrets

Title: Dark Corners 3--Secrets  
  
Author: Dannyblue   
  
Rating: PG   
  
Email: dannyblue2@yahoo.com   
  
Content: Angel/Cordelia.   
  
Summary: Third in the "Dark Corners Series". There are dark corners in every relationship.  
  
Spoilers: General series stuff up to "Rain of Fire". Probably nothing specific. This story takes place in some nebulous future. I have no idea where Connor is, so don't ask   
  
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.   
  
Distribution: Ask and you shall receive   
  
  
  
  
"Don't ever do that again."  
  
Cordelia, who'd just eased her aching body onto the bed, looked up. "What?"  
  
"You heard me." Angel folded his arms. His broad shoulders filled the open doorway behind him. "Never again."  
  
Eyebrows arched in disbelief, Cordelia stared at him. She tried to read his expression, maybe get a sense of what he feeling. She'd gotten good at it over the years. She could read him by the set of his mouth. The narrowing of his eyes.  
  
Usually. At the moment, his face was impassive. Unreadable. It kind of reminded her of how he was back in the day.  
  
"Okay, Angel," Cordelia began, "either this is your idea of a joke or you're overreacting. Either way, pfft."   
  
Okay, there was an expression. He glowered at her.  
  
"No." He took a step towards the bed. "You're not going to listen to what I have to say and then do what you damn well please. Not this time."  
  
He never actually raised his voice. Yet the power of it seemed to fill the room.  
  
"Angel, I couldn't just…"  
  
"You should never have tried to handle that vision on your own. If you'd called me, I could've been there in fifteen minutes."  
  
"And you would've been too late. Don't _tell_ me you don't know that."   
  
"Maybe," he said with a small nod. "And I can't say I care."  
  
Cordelia sighed. That was exactly why she didn't call.  
  
She was on her way home from interviewing a new client when the vision struck. From what she'd picked up, the badness would happen in a nearby alley in about five minutes. And she could be there in less than three.  
  
She thought about calling the office. But there was no way anyone at the Hyperion would make it in time. And Angel would tell her to wait until he got there…which they both would've known she couldn't do. So, he would've worried. And she would've felt guilty about making him worry. Emotional baggage she didn't need to take into a fight.  
  
So, she decided not to call. Instead, she'd wait to tell him after the fact.  
  
If she'd managed to kill the demon without getting hurt herself, things would've gone a lot smoother. Oh, Angel still would've been upset. But there wouldn't have been an injury to add feul to that particular fire.   
  
Wincing, Cordelia place one hand over her shoulder blade. She could feel the bandage through her t-shirt. As it turned out, the son-of-a-whatever had a knife. And she let her guard down just enough…  
  
"Promise me," Angel said, breaking into her reverie. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took her right hand in both of his. "Promise me you won't put yourself in that kind of danger again."  
  
Staring down at there joined hands, Cordy remembered the look in his eyes when she walked in the door. A look she'd seen in the mirror not so long ago. When another vamp plunged a stake into Angel's chest.  
  
The thought of what _could_ have happened haunted her for weeks. It had been so damned close. What if that vamp had better aim? What if Angel had moved just a few inches to the right? What if…  
  
"Angel, what if I had a vision?"  
  
He frowned at the apparent change of subject. "Cordy, what does…"  
  
"What if I told you I had a vision," she interrupted, "And, in the vision, there was this demon so big and fierce, I thought you might not be able to beat it. In fact, it looked like it could do you some real damage. So, because I was afraid you'd get hurt, I just up and decided not to tell you when or where it was going to happen, no matter how many times you asked." She gave him a searching look, one that demanded honesty. "How would you feel?"  
  
He didn't answer. Just clenched his jaw and looked away. But from his grim, resigned expression, he understood what she was getting at.  
  
Smiling a little, Cordelia rested her free hand against his cheek. "I can't 'see' someone in trouble and not do anything about it. You get that, right?"  
  
After a moment of stubborn silence, he took a deep breath. "Yeah. I get it." Hands tightening around the one he still held, he turned to her with pleading eyes. "Just…don't try to handle a vision alone unless you don't have any other choice."  
  
Cordy nodded. "That I can do." Smile turning into a grin, Cordy leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. Careful not to give away the fact that the movement hurt her injured shoulder.   
  
As Angel embraced her, she could hear him sniffing at her hair. Her skin. Which, once upon a time, would have freaked her out a little. But, now, it was comforting and familiar.  
  
It was Angel.  
  
One of his hands slipped under her shirt, caressing the length of her spine. "I love you," he said.  
  
Cordelia shivered, both from the coolness of his touch, and the weight of his words. It wasn't something he said often. But, when he did, it was with so much meaning. So much feeling.  
  
Content, Cordy closed her eyes. "I love you, too."  
  
____________________  
  
Lying on his side, one hand placed on the other side of her body, Angel studied her face. She looked so peaceful in her sleep. So serene and still.  
  
And with one flick of a demon's knife, she could have been gone.  
  
For the hundredth time that night, his dead heart lurched in his chest. He'd been like this for the past hour. Eyes going over every inch of her face, lingering over every feature. Hovering over her protectively as he told himself, again and again, that she was alright. She was here, safe in his arms.   
  
Watching her sleep helped. As each moment passed, the panic that held him in its grip let go a little more.  
  
His eyes fell on the bandage that adorned her shoulder. The pristine, white cotton was stained red by the warm crimson that had soaked through.  
  
Angel breathed deep, the scent of her blood filling his senses. It always did, whenever she was near him. With others, he could ignore. Push his awareness of it down so deep, his hunger barely stirred.  
  
But not with her. The scent of her blood consumed all of him. It was the haze that made everything in the room, everyone but her, fade. The sound of it humming through her veins drowned out every other sound.   
  
The hunger was constant. He'd tried to fight against it. To beat it away. And, when he realized he couldn't, he accepted it. Because the alternative was staying away from her.  
  
And that was something he couldn't do.  
  
With her blood so close to the surface, the hunger was stronger tonight.  
  
Slowly, Angel peeled back the adhesive tape holding the bandage down. Leaning forward, he ran his tongue across the wound. Savoring the taste of her essence as it exploded into his mouth.   
  
His body ached to drink her. Lured by the traces of blood that seeped from the healing cut, his demon emerged. He growled softly as his fangs scraped against her skin. As they throbbed to sink into her flesh and pull her inside him. Dissatisfied with the occasional taste.  
  
Suddenly, she stirred.   
  
Unhurriedly, he replaced the bandage, pressing the tape back down.  
  
"Angel," Cordelia mumbled, voice thick with sleep.  
  
Angel pressed his demonic face against her throat. "Shhh," he soothed. "Go back to sleep."  
  
As she settled back into her slumber, Angel shifted back to his side of the bed. Laying his head on her uninjured shoulder, he rested his hand against her stomach, his fingertips sliding under the edge of her panties.  
  
_A taste,_ he thought as he drifted off to sleep. _All I need is a taste._  
  
  
  
  
THE END 


End file.
